Kylee ate her chicken and potatoes quickly, blocking out Bill’s complaints about the meat being overcooked and the potatoes too salty. Her mom murmured apologies and nodded along with his words.

“I’m done.” Kylee pushed back her chair, anxious to escape.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Bill dropped his fork, letting it clatter against the wood table. He leaned back in his chair and glared at her. “We all work in this household, little girl. I’m not breaking my back for nothing.”

Kylee blinked at him, not bothering to contradict or point out the housework she’d done that day. She knew from experience the best thing to do was play submissive. She tried to think of the easiest task she could do that would make her look busy. “You’re right. I’ll go get the mail.”

She stepped outside, shutting the front door behind her. “Should’ve named me Cinderella,” she grumbled. Except their old single story house didn’t even have a fireplace. Plenty of cigarette ashes, if that counted. And no lack of mice, either.

Laughter close by distracted her, and Kylee turned her head toward the sound. She stomped through the weeds and walked to the neighbor’s fence. Both Price and his sister were outside, running around the yard with their big golden dog.

Kylee glanced back at her house. If Bill looked out the window, he would see her. She crossed to the front of the split-rail fence, hovering at the hinged gate. “Hey,” she called.

Neither one looked at her. The little girl kept on laughing and playing with the dog, holding his toy out of reach so he continually jumped up and tried to get it. He was big enough to almost knock her over with each jump, which made her giggle and laugh harder. Price didn’t take his eyes from his sister, though his smile seemed a little more forced.

Kylee cleared her throat. “Hello!” she said, trying to maintain the chipper and happy tone in her voice. “So you guys just moved in?”

Still neither of them acknowledged her. Annoyed, Kylee yanked at the gate. Of course it didn’t open. She felt around for a locking mechanism, something that made it only open from the inside, but didn’t find one. Giving up, she climbed over the top and hopped into the yard.

Price lifted his head, an expression of alarm on his face. He grabbed his sister’s arm and moved her behind him, as if to shield her.

“Oh, please,” Kylee said, rolling her eyes at his antics. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She stepped closer. The dog yelped and tucked his tail between his legs. Kylee squatted in front of the girl. “Hi, I’m Kylee. I’m your neighbor. What’s your name?”

She avoided Kylee’s eyes. She threw her arms around the dog’s neck and kissed his masses of fur. The dog sat there with his tongue hanging nearly to the ground, panting.

“Are you shy?” Kylee asked. She straightened up, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at Price. He stumbled backward under her stare.

“Lisa.” Price spoke to his little sister. “Go on and take Sisko into the house. I think he’s done playing.”

“All right.” Lisa skipped toward the house, tugging the leash of the big golden red dog behind her. The dog resisted, his furry head lolling backward to stare at Kylee.

Kylee frowned at Price. “What’s the big deal? I’m just trying to be friendly. Neighborly. That’s what normal people do, you know, when someone moves in—”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Price hissed. He kept his lips pressed together, forcing the sound out of one corner.

“What?” Kylee’s confusion turned to anger. “Says who? Did my stepfather talk to you?”

“You need to go back,” Price whispered, making a shoo-ing motion with his fingers. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Kylee guffawed, her anger morphing into dark amusement. “You are so gullible. What did the kids on the bus tell you, anyway? Besides that my house is ‘haunted.’ Really. I’ve lived there my whole life, and I can tell you it’s not.”

Price took several steps backward and glanced around. Beads of sweat pooled on his forehead. Kylee pulled her brows together, frowning. He did look afraid of something.

“Are you gonna be in trouble because I’m here? Will your dad—does he get angry with you?” Kylee asked, reaching toward his arm. Her heart clenched at the thought of Price being treated the way she was.

He jerked away before she touched him and stumbled against a tree trunk behind him. He regained his footing and straightened. “Stay away. I’m warning you. Just stay away from us.” He turned around and hurried to the house, not looking back once. The door slammed shut behind him.

Kylee stood there a moment, trying to decipher that weird encounter.

She went to the gate and paused, noticing a long scar on her right arm. It was jagged and bumpy, like a new cut that had only recently scabbed over. She traced her finger down it. When had she done that?

It was too big. It bothered her, shook her up a bit. She was lucky to be alive after such a wound. Had she gone to the hospital? No, it hadn’t been stitched up.

She jumped over the split-rail fence and hurried through the overgrown grass. She tried to push the strange wound out of her mind. It didn't hurt, and it couldn’t have been a big deal, or she would remember it.

Still, it nagged, pulled at the back of her mind. It was a hideous, jagged scar. Maybe the cutting thing was getting out of control.

“I’ll stop,” Kylee whispered to herself. “I will.”

***

By the next morning, the scar on her arm seemed much less important. It was easy to hide with a long-sleeved shirt, and she had other things to worry about.

Like stalking Price.

He never even glanced at her. Whether going to the bus or coming home, he’d keep his eyes down, then quicken his pace, sometimes prodding Lisa in the back and telling her to move faster. Other times he entered into a serious conversation with Amy or Michael, laughing boisterously and studiously avoiding her gaze.

The rudeness made her blood boil. Three days of stalking and nothing. She entered the house and let the door slam shut behind her.

Her mother shot her a warning look from the table, where she sat with her head in her hands. “Kylee!”

“Sorry,” Kylee mumbled, but she wasn’t. She glanced toward the den. “Bill didn’t hear me, anyway.” Every day, the same thing. Get the eggs, hang the laundry, get the mail, do the dishes, clean the bathroom, or some variation on that theme. She opened the folding closet door and rolled the vacuum out.

“What was that?” Bill yelled from the den, his chair creaking forward.

Kylee didn’t answer. She plugged in the vacuum and turned it on.

She vacuumed the hallway and then her room. She paused by her bedroom window and watched Price play with his sister and the dog. The window was half open, so Kylee stuck her head outside. “Price!” she shouted.

He jerked. Kylee watched as he froze, holding stock still as if paralyzed. “Behind you.” She waved again, but he didn’t turn. “Just saying hi.”

Still nothing. No response.

“Fine, be a jerk,” she shouted. She tried to slam the window shut in her frustration, but it chose that moment to jam itself. Just her luck. She yanked on the vacuum and dragged it out of her room without waiting to see what he would do next.